


Honey Whiskey

by star_child



Series: University of Tokyo [11]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birthday, Drunk Kissing, Drunk Kozume Kenma, First Kiss, Kuroo's Birthday, M/M, New Year's Kiss, Spin the Bottle, Truth or Dare, art student kenma, mentions of deppression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8198984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_child/pseuds/star_child
Summary: all the times kuroo and kenma have kissedkuroken extra





	1. truth or dare

**Author's Note:**

> look i tried not to hurt them this time i think i succeeded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> truth or dare at training camp  
> first/second year of high school

Kuroo had said training camp was Fun. He had _lied_.

Kenma is _exhausted_ , he's been working his butt off all day for two days now, and returning to the room where they're sleeping only means staying up until the middle of the night, talking and playing ridiculous games.

It's Yamamoto who, on the third night, suggests truth or dare. The third years are off in their own little world across the room, leaving their underclassmen to talk amongst themselves. "C'mon," Yamamoto presses when he only gets half assed approval. "It's the _third night_ and we haven't done this yet! It'll be fun!"

Kuroo shrugs and agrees, a moment later so do Yaku and Kai. Even Fukunaga nods along. Kenma stays silent.

Yamamoto cheers when no one outwardly objects, then smacks his palms together with a devilish smile. "Who wants to go first, huh?" No one volunteers, but he's undeterred. "Alright, Yaku, truth or dare?"

"Dare," Yaku says without hesitation.

"Alright, I dare you to... go over and hug one of the third years!" he announces in a hushed voice.

Yaku pulls a face. "They're all... bonding, or whatever. I don't wanna bother them!"

"C'mon man, it's the game!" Yamamoto pushes. "It wasn't even something inappropriate."

He's still clearly less than thrilled at the idea. "Which one?"

"I don't know, your favorite."

Kenma watches the exchange silently, as do Kuroo and the rest of them.

"Fine," huffs Yaku. He stands up from his futon and walks as calmly as he can toward the third years. They look up when he approaches, smiling a little. One of them starts to greet him before Yaku abruptly drops to his knees and drapes himself over his back and shoulders in a messy hug.

Before any of them can react further, Yaku jumps to his feet, bows so low his forehead almost touches his knees, and rushes back to the group. They cheer for him, Kuroo and Kai on either side of him slapping him on the back.

"My turn now?" he huffs in annoyance.

"Yes."

"Okay... Fukunaga."

The poor first year jumps as the circle turns toward him. "Truth!"

Yamamoto shakes his head in disappointment.

Yaku thinks for a few seconds. "Okay, if you had to kill one of us, who would it be?"

Fukunaga makes a face, clearly displeased with the question. "Yamamoto," he finally mutters. True to his quiet nature, he offers no explanation nor apology as Yamamoto lets out an anguished cry and grips his heart. He does give him a sympathetic smile as the rest of them laugh at Yamamoto's theatrics. Even Kenma smiles.

"Pick someone, you traitorous rat," Yamamoto spits from the ground, legs sprawled on the ground and arm thrown dramatically over his face.

Fukunaga just shakes his head.

"What, don't want to hurt anyone else with your treachery?"

He scrunches his nose at Yamamoto, who peeks out from under his arm to laugh at the expression.

"Fine, I'll do it." He sits up, slumping forward to remind everyone that he's still Hurt. "Kenma," he says, and he can't stop way the muscles in his back tense, "Truth or dare."

He shrugs, says, "Dare."

"I dare you to... Give a lap dance to someone!"

He can't stop the look of complete disgust that overtakes his features, but Kuroo speaks up before he can. "Hey, nothing sexual, man. Not for Kenma, at least."

He takes a moment to be grateful. He'd tried, just a few weeks ago, to explain to Kuroo his view on sex, and anything encompassed with it. It was all objective to him, something that happened, that he'd probably get around to eventually, but only with the right person. Kuroo had come back to him a few days later with the word _demisexual_.

"I'm not giving someone a lap dance," he says flatly. No room for argument.

"C'mon, you chose Kenma, of all people?" Yaku agrees. "I got a better one. Slow dance with someone."

"That's cute," Kai nods from beside him.

Kenma just shrugs, standing up and, to no one's surprise, grabbing Kuroo's hand to pull him up as well. He thinks briefly, when he's standing in front of him, that maybe he should've chosen someone _shorter_. He mumbles as much, as he stands up on his toes and reaches up for Kuroo's shoulders.

"Sorry for growing," Kuroo chuckles as he wraps his own arms around Kenma's waist.

"I don't forgive you."

"They need music!" Yaku cries before they can start moving. He reaches for his phone, but Kuroo is way ahead of him and immediately starts up a shitty rendition of Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran in wobbly English.

They're not doing anything more than swaying in place, but Kuroo sings as much of the song as he can, mumbling through the parts where he doesn't know the words. Kai takes a full video, Yamamoto captures a glorious ten seconds for snapchat.

Everyone cheers when they're done, even the third years give a few polite claps, turned around when they heard Kuroo's obnoxious singing. The taller boy bows dramatically to keep the attention off Kenma as he quickly sits down.

For the next half hour, the game carries on. Yamamoto admits that the greatest misconception he had about sex as a kid was that ovaries went all the way up to the girl's shoulders. Yaku tries to argue that it doesn't really count as _sex_ , but the rest of them are entertained enough by the notion that his turn ends.

Kai gets dared to serenade a third year, but everyone agrees that they've been disruptive enough, so he does it to Fukunaga instead. The boy's face is so red but he cries from laughter.

Yaku has to do a cartwheel, but he fumbles it and crashes into Kuroo with a screech.

Fukunaga chooses truth three times. The first time he says he doesn't like his voice, which is why he doesn't talk a lot. The second time he's asked who he would make out with in the room if he had to, and he blushes and shakes his head for a full minute and a half before choosing Kenma. The third time is interrupted by the third years saying they're going to bed, so they move to the hallway to continue their game.

Kenma chooses truth this time, and he admits with a bit of embarrassment that his greatest conflict as a child was always choosing between playing video games inside or running around with Kuroo.

Kuroo boldly chooses dare twice, he has to swap shirts with Yaku for a round – the brown haired boy looks quite comfortable in the over large t shirt as Kuroo struggles to breathe – and for the second one, he's dared to kiss someone on the lips.

Kenma watches as Kuroo shrugs – he's kissed at least two girls before, Kenma has his suspicions about a boy – but startles when Kuroo turns to face him. "Whattaya say, huh?" he smirks.

It's Kenma's turn to shrug. Everything about kissing and dating has always seemed strange and unappealing to him, but as he stares up Kuroo it all just... fades away. He trusts Kuroo, doesn't find himself repulsed by the idea. He nods, just a little, and just like that Kuroo leans down, presses their lips together gently, and pulls back with a smile. Kenma barely has time to close his eyes.

Yamamoto whistles, Fukunaga hits him on the arm while the two other second years smile at Kuroo like they Know something.

Kenma blushes all the way down to his chest and buries his face in his knees. It's his first kiss.


	2. spin the bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spin the bottle at a party  
> second/third year of high school

Kenma really isn't sure he'd call this a  _ party _ . It's just the volleyball club, all three years, chillin in Yaku's basement. There isn't alcohol, there isn't weed, and they have to leave by eleven. He wouldn't call it a party so much as a large hangout.

Inuoka and Lev have been playing dance dance revolution for half an hour, and Inuoka looks like he's melting. His unbelievably high energy is the only thing giving him a chance over Lev's giraffe legs, but he's starting to fall behind. When Lev wins the dance, Inuoka collapses with a shout.

Kenma watches from the couch, minecraft pe game paused on his screen as tries to tell if Inuoka is breathing. After a few seconds he starts rolling toward the couch.

He stops with a loud, "Ow!" when he hits the corner. Kuroo, seated next to him, peers over the arm to make sure the boy is all right.

"Doing okay there?" he asks.

Inuoka pops to his feet, shaking a bit before sitting back down in front of them, next to Shibayama. "Tip top, captain," he says with a scratchy voice. "Next game I play just... better not require any movement."

Lev wanders over and plops down on Inuoka's other side. "Are we playing another game?" he asks excitedly. Kenma wonders how he's not the least bit out of breath.

"Of DDR? Hell no," Inuoka says as he flops first onto Shibayama's shoulder, then the ground. "I think I just died. I think I died a few times."

"We need a new middle blocker," Kuroo announces.

"But Kuroo-san, he's hasn't been a starter since I joined the team," Lev points out.

Inuoka glares at the same time Yaku comes over and kicks Lev in the back, sending him pitching forward so he hits his head on the couch cushion in front of Kenma's crossed legs. "Don't be fucking rude," he says.

Lev winces, rubbing his forehead. "Sorry Yaku-san."

"Don't apologize to  _ me _ ."

"Sorry, Inuoka-kun."

Inuoka weakly raises a thumbs up, still breathing hard.

Fukunaga comes over from where he'd been watching Yamamoto and Kai play pool, sitting on the arm of the couch beside Kuroo. The two pool players follow after.

"Party over here?" Yamamoto asks as he throws himself down in the empty space beside Kenma.

"Just your daily dose of Lev abuse," Kuroo shrugs.

"More like hourly dose," Kai says. He stands next to Yaku, behind the first years sitting on the ground.

"Well maybe if he wasn't such an idiot..." Yaku mumbles. Kuroo smiles.

"We should play a game," Inuoka says. He's still lying on the floor.

"Should we, dead guy?" Kuroo teases.

Inuoka doesn't rise, just nods against the carpet.

"Nothing that requires moving?" Shibayama repeats. Inuoka nods again, rolling around until he lands his head on his friend's thigh. Shibayama pats his head.

"We should play spin the bottle!" Lev exclaims. Kenma wrinkles his nose, half expecting Yaku to kick him again at the suggestion. But the older boy just sighs and crosses his arms.

Yamamoto excitedly agrees, Inuoka holds up another thumbs up and Shibayama nods. No one really protests, so Lev takes it as a yes and grabs a Wii remote. "There's no actual bottles."

"Is that gonna spin?"

"Hold on, there's root beer upstairs." Yaku runs up the stairs as Kai mumbles about all the good drinks being hidden.

"We gotta sit in a circle!" Lev says while Yaku is upstairs. He makes vague but rapid gestures with his arms and scoots around, encouraging everyone else to do the same. Kenma reluctantly slips off the couch to sit in front of it, Yamamoto and Kuroo joining him.

Yaku returns with a bottle of root beer, and then it's a matter of deciding who has to chug the whole thing so it's empty. After three minutes of attempting to force Lev to do it, Kai suggests they just pour it into a few people's cups and be done with it. Kuroo takes some, as does Fukunaga.

"You have to go first, since you suggested this stupid game," Yaku mutters, shoving the bottle at Lev.

"You're just disappointed he wouldn't chug it."

"I was hoping he'd pass out."

"Savage!" Yamamoto cries.

Lev pouts.

"We need rules," Yaku says, ignoring Lev completely. "I can't have you...  _ children _ making out in my basement."

Yamamoto snickers.

"You'll soil my home!"

They all laugh.

"Okay, rules," Kuroo agrees, leaning back against the couch. He throws his arm over the cushion behind Kenma, out of habit. "We'll appease Yaku. No makin' out, I guess."

"Wouldn't wanna make out with any of you guys, anyway," Yamamoto mutters.

"We get it, you're straight."

"It's no fun if it's just... cheek pecks though!" Lev whines.

"Alright, lips unless you have a serious issue, then... I guess cheek. Does that work for everyone?" Kuroo confirms. Everyone nods.

Lev spins the bottle; it stops on Fukunaga and everyone laughs as the boy adamantly shakes his head. Kenma is glad that at least he's not the only one uncomfortable kissing people. Lev teases him by trying to get to his lips, but the boy turns his head every which way until Lev pecks him on the cheek.

Fukunaga nervously spins the bottle, it hardly goes halfway around the circle and Yamamoto shouts for a redo. (Kenma is relieved, it landed more or less on him.) He ends up pecking Inuoka on the cheek. 

Inuoka's spin lands on Yaku, and though he almost dies of embarrassment he scrunches up his eyes and barely touches Yaku's lips with his own.

Yaku complains about mono as he spins, but man handles Kai down until his lips are within reach anyway.

Kai gets Yamamoto, kisses him on the forehead in an almost motherly gesture.

Yamamoto puffs out his chest and cries, "What's a little kiss between friends?!" and kisses Shibayama full on the lips.

Shibayama's spin lands on Kenma and his heart stops, but they make eye contact across the circle and a silent agreement passes between them. Shibayama crawls over and kisses him lightly on the cheek.

When Shibayama is back in his place, Kenma nervously reaches out for the bottle. He figures whoever it is, he can just kiss them on the cheek and get it over with. As Yamamoto said, what's a little kiss between friends? He trusts all these guys, he supposes.

But of course, the universe seems to be conspiring against him.

The bottle lands on Kuroo.

"Welp," Yamamoto says.

"Does that even count if Kuroo-san and Kenma-san are already dating?" Lev asks.

Yaku glares at him and hisses, "Don't just assume things about people's personal lives."

Kuroo just laughs.

The sound lightens something in Kenma's chest, and for the second time he thinks hey, if he's gonna kiss anyone in his life, why not Kuroo?

His previous thoughts of a quickly ending cheek peck fade away as he looks up at the smirk tilted back down at him. Kuroo seems to know what he's thinking, as he always does.

"Yeah, kid?" he teases, barely above a whisper.

Kenma hits him lightly in the arm. " _ Yeah _ ."

"Go on, then."

Kenma steels himself, forgets about the rest of the team watching. He places a hand on Kuroo's shoulder and admittedly drags him down with a bit too much force, their lips meeting clumsily.

It's a bit...  _ messier _ than their kiss a year ago in a truth or dare game. One of Kuroo's lips is forced between Kenma's with the momentum, the noise they make when they pull apart is unnecessarily loud. But Kenma enjoys it just as much, if not more.

As they pull apart he overhears Lev mumbling, "There's no way they're dating if they kiss like  _ that _ ."


	3. new year's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> new year's eve  
> second/third year of high school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a day early bc it's kenma's birthday !!

Kenma tried to talk him out of it, but it couldn't be done. Kuroo was determined.

He was going to throw a New Year's party.

And it couldn't be a small thing, of course. "I'm a third year, Kenma, I have to go all out!" he'd argued. So he'd invited Nekoma's team. He'd invited Fukurodani's team. That party school, Johzenji, had gotten word, so that blond pierced captain and his team were here. Kenma even thought he caught a glimpse of that snake kid and a few of his friends.

He's made it his mission tonight to avoid the kitchen area, since the Johzenji kids had brought plenty of alcohol with them. Some of them are over the top drunk, confined mostly to the dining room now where they're sipping mixed drinks out of tea cups and acting like a boring middle class family amidst bursts of laughter. They'd tried to get Kenma to be their cat a little over an hour ago. He hasn't gone back since.

The last he'd seen Kuroo, he and Bokuto had been in the living room, loudly hosting a game of Cards Against Humanity. Kenma had watched for a bit, he suspected Kuroo had already had a drink or two himself when he pulled Kenma into his lap, wrapped his arms around his stomach and rested his chin on his shoulder while he and Bokuto judged a round. He let Kenma read the winning card.

But he'd quickly grown bored of Bokuto's immature humor, even Akaashi's quiet savagery that resulted in win after win and the warm feeling of Kuroo's chest against his back couldn't keep him there. So he's been camped out upstairs in Kuroo's room for a while, curled up in the corner of his bed and playing on Kuroo's old DS. His phone says it's 11:23 when it lights up with a text from Kuroo. Snow falls past the window.

 **Kuro:**  where are u?

He picks up the phone, thumb hovering over the home button as he debates answering before deciding against it. He knows Kuroo will come looking for him soon enough. He drops his phone and goes back to Kuroo's weird DS game. Something about island survival.

Always predictable, the door opens quietly two minutes later, Kuroo slipping in. "Hey."

"Are you drunk?" Kenma asks immediately.

Kuroo, caught off guard and mildly bewildered, scoffs a laugh. "What? No. I had like, half a beer. Too bitter for me."

Kenma scans his face, looking for bloodshot eyes, any features unfocused. But there is nothing to find. Kuroo is sober.

"Okay," he says softly, and Kuroo takes it as permission to approach.

"It's almost midnight, you know," he smiles.

"There's still forty more minutes," Kenma reminds him.

Kuroo nods, acknowledging. "Okay, well, everyone downstairs has calmed down. Those crazy Johzenji kids crashed our Cards Against Humanity game to put on Peter Pan and pretty much everyone settled in to watch it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. They managed to time it perfectly, it'll finish about five minutes before midnight."

Kenma shuffles, looks back at the DS. He loves Peter Pan. "Is that so?" he mumbles.

"You should come down and watch it with us," Kuroo urges, ever so gently. He holds out a hand. "I know it's your favorite."

Kenma's fingers hover over the power button, tapping it gently. This party has grown a little too out of hand for his taste, but if everyone is just watching a movie…

"I'll be right there," Kuroo smiles.

Kenma turns off the DS with a scoff to cover up his blush. Kuroo always knows what to say to make him relent. "Fine. I'll come watch Peter Pan with you and a bunch of drunk ass Johzenji kids." He slaps his hand into Kuroo's still waiting one and allows himself to be pulled from the bed.

Kuroo doesn't let go of his hand down the hallway, or the stairs, or the living room, but Kenma thinks practically nothing of it. Kuroo sits down in the comfy arm chair by the windows to the backyard and pulls the younger boy into his lap again. The yard is blanketed in snow. Kenma slumps low in his lap, resting his head on Kuroo's collarbone so he can see the screen. Wendy carries on singing to the lost boys.

Every now and again there's a whispered conversation or comment from the Johzenji kids, interspersed with bouts of giggling and hiccups. Nearly everyone in the house trickles in as the movie wraps up, and when Kenma looks up he sees the entire living room packed with people.

The Johzenji kids cheer when the movie ends, their captain doesn't seem as drunk but he cheers as well, an arm slung around the neck of the boy beside him.

Yaku speaks up from somewhere behind Kenma as the credits roll. "Where's the remote? We should turn on the news."

"Why the news?" a kid from Fukurodani asks.

"Because, duh, they have a countdown," Yamamoto says, and he's close enough that Kenma can see him roll his eyes. He's digging around the couch looking for the remote.

One of the drunk kids – Kenma thinks this one actually goes to Fukurodani – starts changing, "Ten! Nine! Eight!" before he's cut off.

"It's 11:53!"

Kuroo chuckles quietly, his fingers absently moving over Kenma's hip. One thing about Kuroo and fidgeting: he's practically always doing it, no matter the situation.

"What do you do at midnight anyway?" Lev asks. "I'm always home with my sister, she just lets us each have a tiny bit of champagne."

Bokuto's head pops up from the pile on the couch. "You kiss someone at midnight! It's for good luck, right Akaashi?"

"That's right, Bokuto-san."

Kids start shouting for the news, Kenma can't really make out any individual comments. So he shuffles in Kuroo's lap, turning his face into his neck and closing his eyes. "Tired?" the older boy says softly. Kenma nods and Kuroo begins rubbing his back.

They eventually locate the remote and it gets passed back to Yaku, who has seated himself on top of the high window ledge in the back of the room, making him as tall as those standing against the walls. He turns on the news.

The anchor lady looks like she's freezing, standing outside all bundled up in the snow, but she's smiling nonetheless. Behind her is downtown Tokyo, glowing with lights and chattering with the conversation of people gathered in the streets. She's asking people in the crowd about their New Year's Resolutions, is currently holding the microphone up to a little girl dressed completely in shades of green, brightly colored braces on her teeth when she smiles wide. Kenma doesn't really listen.

He must fall asleep for a few minutes, because he jumps awake when Kuroo shifts to sit up more. "The countdown," he mumbles as explanation to Kenma. He looks at the tv to see the camera showing various shots of downtown, people excitedly counting down. They're in the twenties. The Johzenji kids are shouting out random numbers as if trying to mess them up.

The counters hit fifteen seconds. Yaku turns up the volume on the tv to drown out the yelling.

They hit ten seconds. Kenma watches Bokuto tilt Akaashi's face toward his own, and they speak quietly.

Five seconds. The Johzenji captain is smirking at the boy with brown hair beside him with a dangerous look in his eyes.

Zero. The room erupts into cheers, Kenma watches Bokuto and Akaashi kiss softly, watches Johzenji's captain throw himself at the boy he's sitting with. Yaku drops a quick kiss on Lev's hair, and the boy absolutely beams.

"Kenma." The name is spoken like a poem on Kuroo's lips.

He turns slowly, looking up at his best friend.

"Happy new year," Kuroo says, lighter than air, and knocks their foreheads together before kissing him slowly on the lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there were cat heart eye emoji's after kuroo's name in kenma's phone but ao3 was like nope and cut off everything after that as the lovely carrochan pointed out so god bless you child cuz i literally would never have looked


	4. kenma's birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kenma's seventeenth birthday  
> third year of high school/first year of college

He blinks his eyes open to black fabric that is definitely not his sheets.

It takes him another moment to realize that his not-sheets are steadily rising and falling, rhythmically thumping... he's lying on someone. He knows who it is, the only person it can possibly be, but he takes a deep breath in anyway, taking in the smell of Kuroo's deodorant.

"Good morning," Kenma whispers.

"Happy birthday," Kuroo whispers back, lips pressed to the roots of his hair.

Kenma smiles, nestling deeper into his friend's chest. "When did you get here?" he asks, lifting one hand to run the fabric of Kuroo's hoodie through his fingers.

"An hour or so ago. God I laid down and you latched right on to me." Kenma can hear the smile in his voice.

"I've missed you," Kenma admits quietly. "I didn't think you'd come."

Kuroo laughs softly and kisses his hair again. "Of course I came. I've been here for every birthday since we met haven't I?"

Kenma nods.

"Besides, couldn't miss my boy's sweet seventeen."

He shakes his head in fond exasperation. "It's sweet _sixteen_ , Kuro, so you're a year late. And that's a dumb American thing anyway."

"Regardless," Kuroo mumbles. "Look, you're only a year younger than me now."

"Yeah, for a month."

"Little victories, Kenma."

"Whatever."

They fall silent for a while as Kenma closes his eyes again, and Kuroo rubs his back. Every now and then they'll have a small conversation – How are Kuroo's classes? (Good.) How is Nekoma's volleyball team? (Fine.) Is Kenma still drawing? (Course.) – and they don't get out of bed until 10:30, when Kenma's stomach rumbles too loud to be ignored.

They slide out of bed, Kenma shivering in the cold morning air of October. He stubbornly leaves his windows open until he risks getting sick. "Here," Kuroo says, and pulls the huge black hoodie he's wearing over his head. Kenma catches the glint of black studs in his ears before he takes the hoodie and shakes it over his own head. It reaches practically to his knees.

Kenma's mother has already started breakfast when they walk into the kitchen. She's bustling about, cooking more food than they really need for only three people. She pauses to rush over and squeeze the life out of her son, wish Kuroo a second good morning, pointedly move her eyes over the sweatshirt hanging over Kenma's pajama pants.

"That's a lot of food," Kuroo remarks as she places a plate of waffles on the table.

"Is dad coming?" Kenma asks, a hint of excitement in his voice. His parents have been divorced since he was young, but they've stayed friends for the sake of their son. He doesn't see his dad all that much, since he works several different jobs, but they've always been close.

"He said he would stop by if he could, yes," his mother smiles.

Kenma grins, ducking his face into the collar of Kuroo's hoodie to hide it. Kuroo tugs at the fabric to let him know that _he saw that, don't think you're smooth_. He bats Kuroo's hands away and drags him over to the table.

Kuroo piles his plate high – he says he's eating fine in college and Kenma believes him, but they don't have his mom's cooking at college – while Kenma helps himself to a single waffle and a few pieces of turkey bacon.

"Aren't you gonna eat more than that?" Kuroo prods.

Kenma gives him a flat stare and stabs a single blueberry with his fork.

"Rude," Kuroo mutters under his breath.

It takes a little while, Kenma has nearly finished pulling apart his waffle, but eventually there's a knock on the door. Kenma's head lifts excitedly, and his mother laughs at him before calling, "Come in!"

The door opens, and there's a rising shout of, "HeeeeEEEEEYY...!" until Kozume Waru comes bursting into the room to finish with, "WHAT'S UP BIRTHDAY BOY?!"

Kenma blushes a bit, but jumps up and runs over to hug his dad. "Hi," he mumbles against his chest.

"Hey kiddo!" His father ruffles his hair as he hugs him back, then detaches to exchange one of those hand-grasp-back-slaps with Kuroo, proclaiming it's good to see his 'second son' so grown up. Kenma's mom gets up to hug him as well, then he sits to grab a waffle, tearing it to pieces as his son did.

"I gotta get to work soon, but I wanted to stop by! Here, I got ya something." He holds up the most horribly wrapped package Kenma has ever seen. "Wanna open it now, kiddo? Or is there somewhere I can put it, Kiko?"

Kenma's mother waves her hand toward the boys. "He still opens his presents alone in his room. Just leave it by the stairs there."

"You got it." His dad stays for a few more minutes, teasing his mother and the boys lovingly before he has to go if he's going to make it to work on time. He kisses Kenma's hair once more, waves to everyone else, and is back out the door in the same energetic whirlwind he came in with.

"I can clean up here, boys, his mother says when they've also finished eating. "You two go on and have fun."

Kuroo bows with a, "Thank you for the food," before heading upstairs after Kenma.

"Wait here," he mumbles when Kuroo walks into his bedroom. He's digging through his bureau, presumably for something to wear. "I have to go shower." He takes off Kuroo's sweatshirt before he goes, handing it back to him so the older boy won't freeze while he waits.

He keeps himself fairly entertained for the fifteen minutes it takes Kenma to get ready. He flicks through his social media, checks on that silly cat game that he genuinely still plays, then returns to Instagram so he can scroll through the discover page. It's a weird mix of grainy tumblr screenshots, art, and cooking. He can appreciate that.

And he can certainly appreciate Kenma's outfit when he comes back in the room. He's wearing dark blue skinny jeans and a green flannel he took from Kuroo last year over a plain black t shirt. "Stop staring at me," he mumbles as he shoves his feet into black converse.

"You clean up nice," Kuroo smirks.

Kenma glances over and looks Kuroo up in down with the tiniest wrinkle in his nose, and looks away. It's ten times ruder than any comeback he could have spoken.

"I'm wounded!" Kuroo gasps with a hand over his chest. Kenma turns his head away to hide a smile.

They spend most of the day in the city. "I didn't get you anything specific 'cause I didn't wanna mess up and get the wrong thing, y'know?" Kuroo explains on the car ride in. He's borrowed it from Bokuto for the day, apparently. Kenma finds it infinitely better than dealing with the train. "So I figured I'd let you pick something and then I'd pay for it. Sound good?"

Kenma nods, studying his fingers tapping against each other. "Sounds good," he repeats, "But... You wouldn't have messed up. I'd like anything you got me." He's blushing a bit, but hopes Kuroo is too focused on the road to notice.

He glances up through his hair to check, and sees Kuroo grinning at the road in front of him. "Yeah?" he says. He sounds thrilled.

Kenma looks back at his fingers, a tiny smile on his own lips. "Yeah."

* * *

 

They spend almost the whole day in the city. Kuroo parks the car in one of those giant parking lots, making sure he writes the name of the lot, the floor, and the section number on his hand. He's heard too many stories of Bokuto losing the car for hours at a time.

Even with Kenma's general hatred of people and crowded places, he feels good with Kuroo. He looks tall and threatening enough that no one dares bump into them, and he spends the whole time touching Kenma somehow: And arm around his shoulders in less crowded areas, a light hand at the small of his back in more crowded ones. Every now and then he'll link a few of their fingers, and the one time someone _does_ bump into Kenma he reaches up to hold the arm of the hand he's holding onto, and Kuroo releases his last two fingers to fully fit their palms together, holding instead to all of them.

Most of the morning is spent going shop to shop, Kenma carefully picking over bracelets and paints, video games and canvases, until he picks out a set of chalk pastels in the third art supply store they find. Kuroo teases him a bit on whether or not that's _really_ what he wants, since he's been treating the choice like it's life or death, but follows him up to the cashier and swipes his card no problem.

They find a little cafe for lunch, though they're both still pretty full from breakfast. Kenma makes it through half a sandwich before he's pushing the plate away.

"So," Kuroo says as he swallows a bite of his own lunch. "Anything else you wanna do today? Walk around some more? Go see a movie?"

Kenma shrugs. He doesn't like deciding what to do, and he's pretty tired.

"Wanna head home?" Kuroo asks, voice implying that he already knows the answer.

He hesitates. "When do you have to go back to school?" He doesn't really care what they do, so long as he doesn't have to say goodbye yet.

"I don't have any classes till the afternoon tomorrow, I could stay overnight, if you want."

"Yes!" Kenma answers, a little too quickly, hands gripping the edge of the table. The studs in his ears flash with his teeth as Kuroo smiles at him, and Kenma blushes. "I mean... yes please. If – if you want."

* * *

 

The drive back is quiet. They're ahead of rush hour by a few hours, so the roads are clear. Kenma curls up in the passenger seat, phone plugged into the aux cord, and dozes.

They spend the afternoon in Kenma's basement, with the flat screen tv and Kuroo's parents' Netflix.

Kuroo flops down on the couch, wriggling until he's comfortable and covering every inch of it. Kenma glares.

"Don't be like that, kitten," Kuroo smiles, and Kenma's anger dissolves at the nickname. "C'mere." Kuroo holds his arms open, beckoning with his wrist. He can't find it within him to hold even a scowl, so Kenma lies down on his chest with his normally impassive expression. He even allows himself a small smile as he settles his head on Kuroo's shoulder.

"Have you heard of Stranger Things?" Kuroo asks as he frees the arm Kenma is half lying on to toss it around his waist. He nods, because Shouyou was telling him about how messed up but cool it was. "Wanna watch it?" He's absently flipping through Netflix with his other hand.

"Sure."

Kuroo flicks back to the show, sets it to play episode one from the beginning.

"You've already started?" Kenma notes.

"Yeah I gave it a go. Had to go to class in the middle, never picked it back up, but I've been wanting to."

He doesn't reply, just nestles deeper into Kuroo's side as the older boy pulls the blanket off the back of the couch, draping it over them. If Kenma dozes through the second episode, that's nobody's business but his own.

When he wakes, Kuroo is stroking his back through the blanket and patting, trying to wake him. "Mm?"

"Your mom is calling us for dinner," Kuroo murmurs.

"Oh." Kenma sits up slightly, wincing at the stiffness of his back. Kuroo is apparently feeling it too; he places a hand on his right shoulder and rotates his arm. "Oh, sorry."

"No problem," Kuroo promises. "Come on."

Dinner is delicious. His mother prepared both of their favorite dishes, and she laughs as they both inhale their meals. "You boys can go upstairs and open Kenma's presents now, I'll see you in the morning. Unless you're leaving tonight, Kuroo-kun?" She looks like she already knows the answer, nods knowingly when Kuroo shakes his head and tells her he's leaving in the morning.

His mother clears the dishes as Kenma drags Kuroo by the hand up to his room, eager to see what his parents got him.

When they get to his room, Kuroo lounges across the far side of the bed, pressed against the wall as Kenma sits down by his feet, pulling over the package with the shitty wrapping job from his father and the much smaller and nicer one, complete with a fancy bow holding two boxes together, from his mother. He tears open the one from his father first, praying it’s what he thinks it is.

The paper – taped directly to the box in one spot and three layers deep in another – comes off with some difficulty, since it has an almost complete top coat of tape. But he gets it open eventually, and nearly squeals. In his lap is a box labeled _Intuos Pro_ , crisp white with the sleek tablet and pen positioned on the front at an angle.

“Hey, educate me,” Kuroo reminds him from the head of the bed.

“It’s a drawing tablet!” Kenma explains happily, holding it up to his chest. Underneath are two canvases, roughly the size of the box in his arms. Good, he was all out.

“Oh, is that the Way-comb, Wa-com tablet thing you’ve been wanting?”

“Yes!”

Kuroo smiles at the pure elation on his best friend’s place as he places the box carefully on the ground, the canvases on top of it.

His mother’s present is easier to unwrap, since the bow just slips right off and there is only one layer of paper to get past. The smaller box on top consists of six copics – his first ones. This time he does yell.

The second box holds three new xbox games, online multiplayer so he can play with Kuroo when he’s back at school.

Kenma grins so wide that it hurts his face as he carefully places the copics back in their box, stacking everything neatly on the floor beside his bed. When he’s satisfied that everything is safe down there, he lies down beside Kuroo, nuzzling into his chest like he had been when he woke up.

“You don’t wanna try out any of your presents?” Kuroo asks even as he wraps his arms around Kenma.

He shakes his head, bunching the fabric of Kuroo’s hoodie into one hand. “You’re the best present,” he mumbles quietly, a little embarrassed.

Kuroo rumbles beneath him with a laugh. “Hey, I got one more present for you then,” he says.

Kenma sits up, curious. But Kuroo doesn’t make a move to get up, just lifts one hand to cradle Kenma’s jaw for a moment, gazing at him with a soft smile on his lips. Kenma stares back, and after a moment the hand on his face slides across his neck, moving to the back of his hair to pull him down so Kuroo can lightly brush their lips together. It only lasts a second, but Kenma leans in for another right after, still just a quick touch of puckered lips that they're both grinning slightly into.

“Happy birthday, Kenma,” Kuroo whispers, hardly any space between them.

“I love you,” Kenma whispers back. He doesn't clarify on what way he means, because even he doesn't truly know.

Kuroo kisses him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you guys know that kuroo is almost two years older than kenma bc i did not


	5. kuroo comes home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kuroo visits from uni  
> third year of high school/first year of college

Kuroo has always been good at realizing that things end.

Kenma, not so much. He has a bad habit of wallowing in his feelings: loneliness, sadness, regret, until they begin to eat away at him. He can't see past it – whatever 'it' is – like Kuroo can.

(Of course he knows, somewhat objectively, that whatever he’s feeling will pass, he’s not completely irrational, but he can’t  _ feel  _ it.)

And Kenma has never done so good in the winter anyway, seasonal depression hitting him harder than most. Usually he did fairly okay, since Kuroo was there to drag him out of bed, to make sure he didn’t escape before volleyball practice, to walk home with him and eat dinner and do homework, make sure he was still functioning. He always complained at the time – he didn’t need another mom, the older boy was smothering, he should worry about himself for once – but he never  _ meant  _ it. And now Kuroo has gone away to college, and Kenma never realized how much he not only didn’t mind, but how much he  _ needed  _ it.

He knows it’s not healthy. He knows all about codependency and its dangers, knows he should be able to function without his best friend around.

So he’s doing his best. He drags himself out of bed, stops himself from slipping away between the final bell and the start of practice, walks home alone with his head high and finishes his dinner and does his homework with all of his lights turned on. Most days it’s enough.

But every once in a while, a day comes where he just can’t do it. Usually it’s a day where the weather is shitty: overcast, threatening rain or snow, gross slush and ice all over the roads and sidewalks, frigid but humid and  _ heavy _ in a way that makes him think the ice he’s crashing to the ground on should be  _ melting _ . He’ll wake up to grayscale, and it’s all he can do to pull his blankets over his head and try not to let the ache in his chest rip him apart.

His mother knows by now to allow it. If it’s become too frequent of an occurrence, she will step in and get him up, drive him to school, do as much as she can. But every once in a while, she knows to just let him be. Everyone needs a day to recharge, to piece themselves back together again before they can keep moving.

She does come up once, just to make sure he hasn’t accidentally slept through his alarm and intends on going to school. When he looks at her with glassy, blank eyes and hardly even tracks her movement, she kisses hair and reminds him to eat at least once, she’ll be home for dinner, call if he needs anything.

He rolls over and sleeps until noon.

* * *

When he wakes up, it’s to his phone vibrating somewhere on the bed in front of him. The pulse of the vibration has him reaching forward before he’s even fully conscious, because something in him just  _ knows  _ he has to get to it, even if he can’t fully put together why at the moment.

His fingers close around the device, mindful of the screen as his eyes finally open to see Kuroo’s horrible contact photo: a picture Bokuto sent him from their dorm room Christmas morning. Kuroo’s hood is drawn over his head, a pair of antler headbands sitting on top of it as he looks at the camera with the strangest smile on his face. He looks like he’s either about to pass out or strangle Bo.

He swipes his thumb across the screen, pressing it to his ear. “...Hullo?”

_ “Kenma,” _ Kuroo breathes, and he sounds so relieved that Kenma sits up, disoriented from sleep and now confused at Kuroo’s tone.

“Uh, hi?”

_ “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning.” _

He blinks, squints at the Adventure Time penguin clock on his wall to check the time. “How did you know I wasn’t at school?”

_ “Oh, that’s a long story. Did you ever end up buying a fern for the porch?” _ Kuroo’s tone is casual, conversational, despite his topic changes sending Kenma’s half asleep mind for a loop.

“What? A fern? No…?” His mother had been meaning to for, oh,  _ years _ , but they keep the spare key at the bottom of that pot, underneath the still unopened small bag of soil.

_ “Okay just wondering. Don’t stay in bed all day, kitten. Take a shower, have you eaten yet?” _

Kenma groans, pushing himself up on one arm only to flop back down again. “You woke me  _ up _ , Kuro, I haven’t even gotten out of bed today.”

_ “Get on that, then. I know you don’t feel up to anything today, but that doesn’t mean you get to waste away.” _

“Okay  _ mom _ ,” Kenma huffs, glaring at the wall.

_ “I’ll talk to you later, Kenma.” _ Kuroo says softly.

“Yeah. Talk to you later,” he replies, considerably less annoyed at the sound of his best friend’s voice, weird and filled with static as it is through his phone speaker; it’s better than nothing.

They hang up, and Kenma counts to ten before pushing himself into a sitting position, scooting to the edge of the bed and swinging his legs over the side. He takes another deep breath before standing, and once he’s up it’s easier to move himself forward to grab clean sweatpants and a tshirt and head down to the hall to the bathroom.

When he’s drying his hair after, pushing his fingers through the hair brushing his neck and wondering if he should bleach it again – there’s only a few inches of blond left after his recent haircut – he thinks he hears the front door opening. But that… can’t be right. His mother wouldn’t be home in the middle of the day, and no one else has a key to their house.

Adrenaline and anxiety spike through him as the thought of an intruder crosses his mind. Sure he’s stronger than he appears, but he’s not really  _ that  _ strong, he wouldn’t be able to fight anyone off. Nothing in here can really be used as a weapon – maybe the toilet plunger as a bat?? – and he’s just about to run to his room to grab his phone when he hears footsteps on the stairs.

His breaths start coming quicker, thinking oh  _ God he’s trapped in here with no way to defend himself he’s going to be robbed and probably murdered as a seventeen year old with half bleached hair and no shirt _ –

“Kenma?” he hears, and now he’s breathing quickly for an entirely different reason because that can’t be –

The bathroom door opens, and Kenma’s heart stutters in his chest.

Kuroo is staring back at him, eyes wide and a little worried but mouth closed. The black studs from Kenma's birthday have been replaced with small silver hoops, now with an additional bar through the top of his right ear.

Kenma thinks he's about to pass out from adrenaline and sensory overload. He sways on his feet for less than a second before Kuroo is there, arms around his waist as he holds him up.

“Hey, hey now,” Kuroo hushes, and he doesn’t have to hold Kenma up for long because as soon as the position is right Kenma is  _ clinging _ , arms and legs wrapped around him like a spider monkey. Kuroo huffs a laugh, attempts to situate the younger boy in his arms so he can lift him, carry him back down the hall to his room.

“What are you doing here?” Kenma chokes when they're seated, still half in Kuroo's lap because he refuses to let go.

Kuroo laughs a little, trying to shift so they're more comfortable. “Well, you know next Monday is a holiday, no school. We get Friday off, because the staff have a day for meetings and such, and my one class today got cancelled, so I figured hey, five day weekend.” He kisses Kenma's forehead, ruffles his hair. “Thought I'd come home.”

“But you – How did you know…?”

“I told my parents I was coming home, y’know, obviously, but I wanted to surprise you. I texted your mom. I was gonna be here when you got home from school, but she said you were already at home, feeling shitty.”

Kenma shudders, wraps his arms tightly around Kuroo’s chest.

“Came to make you feel better,” Kuroo mumbles into the crown of his head.

“Thank you,” Kenma says back, voice shaky.

They stay like this for an hour.

* * *

Kenma must have dozed off, because he snaps awake with a gasp and a hitch in his breath, tears gathering in his eyes as he takes in too much at once.

“Whoa, hey!” Kuroo says, quickly sitting up to match the small distance between them and bring Kenma back down. “I got you, kitten, relax.” He strokes Kenma's hair as the boy shakes, evens his breathing. “I'm here,” he whispers, and the thought almost makes Kenma cry for real.

He hasn't seen Kuroo properly since his birthday back in October, just rushed phone calls, long skype sessions while they both do homework, hardly  _ fifteen minutes  _ on Christmas when Kuroo stopped by his house in the evening. He'd nearly missed his train, but had enough time to hand Kenma his present and accept his own, hug him tightly and kiss his forehead and the tears off his cheeks.

They grew up with only the street between them, always seconds away, but now Kuroo is off in the city, distant even if it wouldn't take them longer than a half hour train ride to meet.

Having him here, in his bed again, is a blessing Kenma cannot forget to count.

Kuroo finds Kenma’s laptop and starts up a movie to keep him from falling asleep again, kisses his hair and his forehead and his cheeks, each of his eyelids once he closes them.

“I’ve missed you,” Kenma mumbles as Kuroo’s lips linger by his temple.

“Missed you too,” Kuroo shifts and murmurs back. Kenma feels the words ghost across his lips, fan over his face, and he tilts his chin up a little on instinct, almost daring him to move closer.

And he does. Kuroo gently presses their lips together – doesn’t steal Kenma’s breath away, doesn’t send fireworks off exploding, doesn’t make his heart feel as though it will burst through his chest. Instead it just feels natural, as easy and familiar as lying together in this room, as holding hands and watching movies.

It’s their first just-because, no-excuses kiss. This isn’t a party game, or new year’s, or a birthday. It’s just a shitty day in late January, when they’re both worn out and missing each other and a little unsteady.

“Thank you for coming,” Kenma mumbles.

“Of course. I’ll be here till Monday for you, Kenma. Just for you, okay?”

“What about your parents?”

Kuroo waves his hand as though brushing away a fly. “You come first, in my book.”


	6. drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'i'm not gonna have sex with you while you're drunk'
> 
> or, the first time kenma kisses kuroo

There's a  _ reason _ Kenma doesn't drink much after his first year of college. There’s a reason he doesn’t go to parties, avoids bars like they hold every disease known to man.

He’s been to a bar  _ once _ .

Kuroo and Bokuto are going, since Kuroo has just turned twenty and he can finally legally do what he’s been doing for a year and a half. Not that he’s ever been a horribly irresponsible drinker, in fact he hardly gets drunk. But he and Bokuto insist that it’ll be fun, going to a bar now that neither one of them has to sneak around.

Akaashi is going with them, because he likes the food and the bartender always allows him to sit at the bar even though he’s not legal, and he manages to convince Kenma to tag along as well. “It’s Kuroo-san’s birthday,” he points out while Kenma is still on the fence about going. He’s never had anything more than a sip of his mom’s wine before, let alone been anywhere near drunk. “We all know he would like you to come, even if he won’t say it.”

So here he is, seated at the bar between Akaashi and Kuroo, trying not to look nervous as he hands over a fake ID (a gift from Hanamaki Takahiro on his eighteenth birthday). The boy behind the bar squints at him, given he looks a little too young, but accepts it easily enough.

For the first hour or so, things go okay. Akaashi orders an appetizer of something seafood, fried and salty, and they’re content to munch on that for a while as Akaashi chats with the bartender whenever he has a moment. Kuroo has an arm over the back of Kenma’s chair, even as his head is turned the other way to complain to Bokuto about professors, and Kenma can feel it heating his shoulders. They both have beers, though Bokuto seems far more invested in his than Kuroo is.

At one point, the girl on Akaashi’s other side orders something sweet smelling and light blue. He stares at the bobbing ice cubes as she takes a sip, covering her mouth to keep it in as she laughs at whatever her friend is saying.

“Can I have one of those?” Kenma blurts out as the bartender starts to say something to Akaashi. They blink at each other in surprise before Kenma blushes. “Ah, sorry,” he mumbles. “But um, can you make me one of those?” He points around Akaashi to the blue drink.

“Oh, blue lagoon cocktail?” Kenma nods. “Sure,” the bartender smiles, and starts grabbing bottles.

* * *

 

That blue drink is so good that he gets three of them. He notices the room around him getting blurrier as he drinks, but thinks nothing of it. It’s getting late, his eyesight is always fucked up when he gets tired. His conversation with Akaashi keeps trailing off as he gets distracted, has to ask the older boy multiple times to repeat whatever he just said.

Eventually he feels a hand on his back; warm and solid and familiar. “Kuro,” he smiles, turning to blink slowly up at him.

“Hi. You feelin’ okay?”

Kenma leans toward him unthinkingly, suddenly wanting to be close. “Mhm. You’re warm.”

“Yeah, kiddo?” Kuroo chuckles.

“Yeah. What's that?” he asks, peering at Kuroo's short glass.

“Razzmatazz.”

Kenma smiles, crooked and tired. “Doesn't sound real. What is it?”

Kuroo drapes his arm over the back of Kenma's chair again, allowing him to press closer to his chest. “Raspberry vodka, mostly. Some cranberry juice. Some club soda. You wanna sip?” He holds the glass out to Kenma, who takes it eagerly.

It's  _ good _ , not as good as his blue lagoon thing, but with more of a fruity bite. He takes another large sip before Kuroo pulls it away.

“Get your own, huh?” he complains, nudging Kenma back to his own seat. He pouts, but stops the bartender as he goes past again.

“Can I get a razza – razz… What's it called?” he asks Kuroo.

“Razzmatazz,” he supplies.

“Right, that. Can I get that?”

“Of course, give me a second,” the bartender says, and goes back to what he was doing.

When he comes back with the drink, Kenma immediately takes a large sip, and immediately chokes. Kuroo's had time to get pleasantly watered down while the ice melted; Kenma's is a strong, unadulterated mix of vodka and carbonated soda. He coughs as Kuroo hits him lightly on the back.

“Slow down there, champ,” he says, and Bokuto laughs.

He ends up drinking two, and by now his vision is fading in and out, swaying, and the only thing he can focus on is the coolness of the granite bar and the feel of Kuroo’s hand on his back. He’s dimly aware of the conversation Akaashi is having with Kuroo over him, as he nods along like he’s listening.

Eventually he hears, “I think it’s time to call it a night guys,” from Kuroo. Distantly, through water or possibly through all the drinks he’s already had.

He watches in a haze as the bartender brings them their check, as Bokuto aggressively insists that he and Akaashi can cover it because after all it  _ is  _ Kuroo’s birthday, as all four of them stand and Kenma stumbles into Kuroo. One of Kuroo’s arms wraps around his shoulders and he faintly hears Akaashi telling them to get home safe.

The blast of November air clears his head a bit when they step outside, and he has enough presence of mind to know that Kuroo is  _ warm _ , has always been a human furnace as opposed to Kenma’s perpetually cold hands and nose. He steps closer to his friend as they walk, slips his hands under his jacket and smiles when Kuroo jumps at the cold skin.

“Hey!” he protests, “No fair, c’mon.” He wrestles Kenma’s hands out of his jacket and instead holds onto the one between them, shoving both of them in his pocket.

“Wha’ ‘bout my other hand?” Kenma slurs, lifting his left hand to flop it around on his wrist.

“You’ve got your own pockets, you’re a smart kid, figure it out.”

He wiggles his fingers, then stuffs them in his pocket.

“I’m sure your roommate will be happy to deal with you,” Kuroo laughs as they sit down at the bus stop. Het lets go of Kenma’s hand in his pocket to wrap it around his shoulders when the younger boy starts shivering.

Kenma groans. His roommate – some kid his age from Aoba Jousai – will take one look at him and demand to know if he’s been drinking, then shout about how dangerous it is for them to drink when they’re this young (even though Kenma knows he has a beer himself every once in a while).

“You can stay at my place, if you want,” Kuroo offers, and Kenma is agreeing before the sentence is even finished. He lives an apartment with Bokuto now as opposed to their freshman dorm, but judging by his absence, he assumes Bokuto will be staying with Akaashi.

A breeze whistles through Kenma’s jacket and he shivers, scooting again closer to Kuroo and leeching his warmth. He’s so  _ warm _ and he smells so nice, his body is solid and it’s grounding to be this close to him. Kenma is hit with a wave of attraction.

“Kuuurooooo,” he grins in a sing-songy tone, giggling to himself. “Kuro Kuro Kuro.”

“Hey Kenma,” Kuroo smiles back.

“I’m thirsty.”

Kuroo hums. “Drinking will do that to you, believe it or not. Especially all that club soda in a Razzmatazz. Carbonation and all that.” He rubs Kenma’s arm through his coat. “I’ll get you some water at home.”

“Mmkay,” he mumbles as he sees the bus approach the corner. It turns onto their street and pulls to a stop in front of them. Kuroo maneuvers him on and sits them down in the middle, equal distance between the group of seniors napping on each other in the back row and the girl toward the front with headphones on.

He can’t remember where exactly on campus they are, or how long the ride back to Kuroo’s apartment will be, so Kenma is content to curl his legs up onto the seat and lean into Kuroo’s side. He times his breathing to the beating of Kuroo’s heart, loses track of time and dozes off.

When he wakes, the bus is slowing down and Kuroo’s lips are by his ear. He doesn’t hear the words, giggles instead at Kuroo’s breath fanning over his neck and his lips just barely brushing against his skin. He’s not listening in the slightest, but when Kuroo stands so does he, following him off the bus and onto the sidewalk.

Kenma blinks a few times, the building looking unfamiliar until he realizes that they’ve simply come from the other direction. He stumbles after kuroo down the sidewalk to the front door, lets himself be maneuvered into the elevator that he knows Kuroo tries not to use too often. Neither of them joined the volleyball team, both of them too distracted by their majors for more than a few impulsive trips to the gym, so Kuroo takes any chance at exercise he can get. Kenma watches the button for their floor light up, forgets about it immediately when he feels Kuroo’s warm hand on his waist.

He’s never been a tactile person – Kuroo generally being the only exception – but as they step off the elevator and stop in front of his door, all Kenma wants is to be as close as humanly possible to him, in every way that implies. The door opens, they go inside, and Kenma lurches over to stand in front of him as soon as the door is shut, shoving his own cold hands under Kuroo’s shirt.

The older boy yelps at the contact as his back hits the door, tries to force Kenma’s wrists away but he holds tight. Kuroo allows him to stay once their temperatures begin to even out, partially distracted by the way Kenma is pressing as close as he can, hands sliding up and around under his shirt.

“Kenma, what –”

He’s cut off when Kenma practically  _ throws _ himself up, crashing their lips together in the best he can do at a kiss.

Kuroo doesn’t stop him. He kisses back, if slower and a little more confused, but he makes no move to pull away. His hands are like fire on Kenma’s sides through his shirt, holding still but grounding enough to keep either of them from falling over with Kenma’s erratic moving. His own hands race over Kuroo’s skin, one staying by his abs as the other drags his shirt and jacket all the way up to his shoulders. It would be easier to get to his hair if Kenma’s arms weren’t under multiple layers of fabric, but he doesn’t think of removing them.

He grows bold when Kuroo’s hands begin to rise to cradle his jaw, slipping one hand out from under his jacket in order to push it off. He gets as far as Kuroo’s shoulders before he starts pulling back.

“Kenma,” he mumbles against the boy’s lips. “Kenma, hold on.”

He doesn’t listen, just clamps a hand on the back of Kuroo’s neck and drags him down into another kiss, lips bruising and relentless and clumsy as he tries to get himself under the jacket that’s only half on Kuroo’s body anymore. Kuroo let’s it go for the moment, accepts the kiss and winds one arm around his waist, the other still barely holding Kenma’s jaw.

Things get a little awkward when Kenma lets out half a moan from the back of his throat. Kuroo pulls back completely, pulling Kenma into a hug to keep him from trying to kiss him again. They're both breathing heavily, just stand in silence as they try to calm down.

“Kenma  _ what  _ are you doing?” he murmurs into the brown roots.

“I love you,” is all Kenma can think to say back, pushing his hands back under Kuroo’s shirt and pressing his face into his chest. Can't he understand that? Doesn't he know that he's the only person who can make the constantly circulating thoughts in his head quiet down? The only one who can make him feel anything at all? “I love you,  _ I love you _ , Kuro, don’ stop.”

“Kenma you’re  _ drunk _ ,” Kuroo says. He sounds like he's in pain. “I love you too, okay? You know that. But I am  _ not _ gonna have sex with you while you’re drunk.”

“‘M not that drunk,” Kenma protests. “‘Ts okay, really, I wanna.”

Kuroo shakes his head, holding Kenma away and pulling his hands out of his shirt. Kenma lets him. “I can tell you do. But listen, if we do this you’re gonna wake up in the morning all freaked out, your memory's gonna be spotty and you're not gonna trust yourself or me and I don’t want to put you through that, okay?” He reaches up to run his fingers through Kenma’s hair, smiling softly. “Okay, kitten?” he repeats.

“I trust you,” Kenma mumbles. “That's not gonna change.”

“If you trust me you’ll listen, alright? I'm gonna sleep on the couch.”

Kenma takes a deep breath, nods even though he's pouting. Pulls Kuroo down into one more kiss for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up next: an iwaoi check in


End file.
